


In Torment

by Mossgreen



Series: 2770 ab urbe condita [2]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Master/Slave, Nipple Clamps, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Paddling, Rope Bondage, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Vibrators, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 10:19:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15140999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossgreen/pseuds/Mossgreen
Summary: Slave Ven is in what could be described as 'a bit of a bind', for his master's entertainment. And it is being livestreamed for others to see.





	In Torment

Ven had been brought to the foot of Master's big four-poster bed earlier, and blindfolded. He waited, kneeling up and with his head down to the floor, presenting himself while Master fetched the required toys and implements from the training room. 

He could hear the chimes of messages on a live comment stream from the computer on Master's desk, and knew that there were cameras set up all around the room, recording and broadcasting. It was not as though Master did not have business interests doing... whatever it was he did, but his... _sessions_... with Ven now provided an extra, if minor, source of income. Master's original prediction had proven to be correct there.

He could hear footsteps on the tiled floor of the corridor outside and double-checked his position, shifting his knees fractionally further apart. 

Master was accompanied by someone else, one of the house slaves, although Ven could not tell who; one set of barefoot footsteps sounded much like any other. There was a rattle and a quiet huff of breath – something had been placed on the bed. A snap of fingers – Master dismissing the other slave, which was followed by a quiet shuffling as the other slave crawled out of the room to return to his duties elsewhere. Ven's breathing quickened; he was alone with Master and Master's imagination (and who knew how many people who had paid to watch this evening's livestream).

He could hear things being moved. From the sounds, everything had been brought up in a plastic box, but Ven could not detect from the sounds alone what those things might be, apart from hearing the slight rattle of chains (not the heavy ones, but even the light decorative chains were far too strong for him to break).

One wrist was tugged free from where he was holding his forearms behind his back, and lifted to have a cuff buckled around it before being allowed to settle back. The other wrist was treated similarly, and then each ankle.

Master seemed to have moved everything he wished to, by now, but it was a moment before he spoke.

“Pet.”

“Yes, Master?” His throat was already dry and the evening (afternoon? He had been kept literally in the dark all day) has barely begun.

“Turn around and assume the same position you are in now. Once there, do not break it. Naturally, this is going out as a livestream. Do not disappoint me.” He hadn't had to say as much; Ven had been hearing the soft pings of messages on the live feed almost since he had been brought into the room this evening.

“Yes, Master.” He immediately turned, locating the bed with one hand to make the 180o turn as precise as he could before resuming his arse-up, head down position with his hands behind him. He knew without a doubt that there was a camera across the room, focussed on his arse, and probably more cameras around the room to get different angles.

“Ah. It has been suggested that I warm your pretty bum up before we begin,” Master said, patting it before giving it a brief but painful pinch. The next thing to touch Ven's bum was a paddle. From the feel of it as Master rubbed it all over him, it was one of the long heavy ones with the cut-outs that would leave a word visible, temporarily, if applied with enough force. Master had several of them, _slut_ and _pet_ and _whore_ and _slave_. He didn't use _whore_ on Ven very often because it was hard to make the whole paddle land with enough force on a curved body to produce the whole word.

“I think I shall mark you _slave_ today,” Master said thoughtfully. “Count them.”

“Oh!! O... One, thank you, Master. May I have another?” It had landed hard on his right butt-cheek, sending heat flaring except where the letters had been cut out. The next strike mirrored it on the left cheek.

“Two, thank you, Master. May I have another?” 

The paddling was slow, every stroke requested and counted until Ven's breathing was ragged and he thought his bum was on fire. He was trying not to wriggle, but Master's stencil paddles were second only to the wooden one with the holes drilled through it, and for much the same reason.

“Th – thirty, thank you, M...Master. May I... h...have another?”

There was no answer, but a different paddle, the heavy circular leather one, was rubbed over his bottom. “You need not count these,” Master informed him, before beginning. The first blows were nothing more than a soft gentle patter over already warmed skin, but they gradually rose in intensity until Ven knew that he would have difficulty in sitting for the next few days.

He had difficulty holding position during the paddling, and could not help crying out as the heat and pain built as the paddle continued to fall, striking all over his arse and the tops of his thighs. He was a quivering, teary mess by the time Master finished, and he had slipped his fingers into the D-rings of his cuffs, locking them there tightly so he did not move his hands. He knew he had shifted his knees a little, trying not to kick out or break position.

“A very pretty cherry red. What do you say, boy?”

“Th... thank... thank you, M... Master.” Ven strove to catch his breath and slow his racing pulse, gradually becoming aware of the nearly continuous pings of the comment stream.

A single finger traced down along his crack to his entrance, and he forced his flinch down to little more than a twitch.

“His hole is stretching from what it was, as you can see,” Master said to the anonymous viewers, spreading Ven's buttocks (his hot, painful, bright red buttocks) to display him fully to the camera. Ven whimpered with the pain and humiliation. “He can take far bigger plugs now, but he is still a delightfully tight fuck.”

He was let go, with an unexpected slap that made him squeal, coming on top of the hard paddling he had just received.

“Slave, kneel up, turn your head to the right and open your mouth,” Master told him.

Ven obeyed, glad that 'kneel up' meant his punished bottom was not touching anything, even though having his knees spread wide made the position somewhat precarious, especially as he was blindfolded.

“Lick it, all over,” Master told him, pressing a dildo to his mouth. 

He had very little spit left, but did as he was told, trying to make it entertaining for those watching, even as he took the opportunity to explore what it was more thoroughly. Large, with a head and veining like a cock, but harder and bigger. Not cold, so neither stone, metal nor glass. Not the rubbery taste of latex or silicone. Probably plastic, but it was not a toy he recognised from Master's extensive collection.

“Resume your previous position,” Master said, pulling the toy away from Ven's tongue after a while.

He immediately dropped his head to the floor again, hoping that Master would use something other than just his spit before inserting it. The insertion, when it came, was slow and deliberate, but with a slide that told Ven it had been properly lubed first. It was pushed in, and pulled slowly out, making him feel all the ridges and detailing of it. Pushed in, twisted, pulled out, the end pushed down a little, so that it was pushed in a different angle.

He whined and whimpered and mewled as it was played with, teasing him with the merest touch possible of his pleasure bump inside., until it was pushed in all the way, the moulded balls at its base ensuring it would not go in any deeper.

“Turn back round and kneel up, your arms out to either side,” Master said next, and waited until his slave had complied. “Show your pretty prick to the camera, boy. The new subscribers want to see your arrow, pointing at it.”

Even as his Master spoke, he had taken hold of Ven's left wrist, pulling his arm up to be chained to one of the bed-posts. A whisper of fabric meant that when his right arm was likewise secured, it was not a surprise. His ankles were also secured to the bed-posts.

“Thrust your hips, boy, show them your pretty mark pointing at your little prick,” Master said. Ven began thrusting, his half-hard cock bobbing and swaying, even as he felt his master step away. Somehow the motion made the dildo inside him move a bit, too, although he could not work out how or why.

Master spoke from where the computer was; he had seemingly gone to read some of the comments being posted. “Oh, that is a good idea! One of your watchers says I should tattoo a matching arrow low on your back because your hole gets more use than your cock, slave. What do you say?”

“Th... thank you, sir, but... as my Master pleases,” Ven said, giving the only safe response, still moving his hips as though humping the air.

“Keep moving like that until I tell you to stop,” Master told him, the sound and direction of his voice informing Ven that he had moved to fetch something else.

A long snake of coarse rope was draped over Ven's shoulder a moment later, deliberately dragged over his nipple.

“Stop humping the air, slave, your prick will have attention enough soon,” Master said, and trailed a finger over the sensitive skin of Ven's inner thigh. “Push your hips forward, pet.”

Ven did so, shaking with the tension he was held in, and the arousal and humiliation of the situation. Master ran his finger down Ven's treasure trail that now formed the spine of a downward-pointing arrow aiming at his prick, the head formed by two lines which were all that was left of his pubic hair. He cupped Ven's hairless balls and the slave whimpered at the touch, even as Master addressed the unseen watchers of the internet.

“Some owners choose to remove their slaves' balls, preferring that their full concentration is on serving their masters. This is most common in the East of Caesar's great empire, but it occurs all over the vastness of it, even to the great Western Lands across the Mare Atlanticum.”

Ven shuddered at the thought of castration. A slave belonged to his master, totally, his orgasms in his master's hand to grant or deny, but such a mutilation would remove even the prospect of them, forever.

“I do not consider such a state desirable, even in a slave,” Master continued. “I prefer to have control over whether a slave may come, or not, and when and how. I find that the possibility that he may reach the edge and be denied to be as much of a motivation as the threat of a paddle or whip. The proverbial carrot and stick, even. There are other such 'carrots' a master can employ, but he should not be over-hasty to discard a most... potent one.”

He gave Ven's balls a squeeze, drawing forth a whimper, and then began to wind the rope around the slave's waist, between his legs and around his prick. Eventually, he stepped back, leaving Ven to work out what he had done. It was tight over the dildo, rubbing between his buttocks and tied with a large hard knot pressing firmly against the soft skin between the dildo's balls and his own.

A collar (he guessed it was the one that matched his wrist cuffs) was fastened around his neck next. There seemed to be a string or cord from the back of it, trailing down Ven's spine, and Master tied this to the rope at his waist, making him arch his back a little.

“Oh, no, indeed, we cannot forget those,” Master said, apparently in reply to a comment somebody had just posted, or possibly to the fact that arching the back thrust the chest forward. Ven bit his lip, knowing what 'those' referred to. He was not surprised, therefore, when Master rubbed his fingers over a nipple before squeezing and tugging at it. 

“I have your very favourite toys here, pet,” he said, twisting the nipple as he spoke. “I think I shall pierce these one day, for a special show, so you can be decorated here all the time.”

“As... as Master pleases,” Ven replied, pressing his eyes closed behind the blindfold.

“Hmm. The viewers think so, too. Well, we will see. In the meantime...” The nipple-clamp seized on the sensitive nub and Ven shuddered, gasping. There was a little fiddling, and then the other nipple also had the vicious bite of a clamp. Somehow, they were connected to the rope around his waist and he wanted to bend forward, but of course he could not, thanks to the cord from his collar.

“Last of all, we cannot have you closing your legs.”

The spreader bar's thigh cuffs were fastened with little fuss, but even so it seemed that Master was not entirely happy, for he adjusted it, forcing Ven's knees a few inches wider which added to the strain of holding the position. It was a precarious one, especially with the blindfold on, accentuating every sensation.

“Oh, of course. You will like this part, pet.” The tone of the promise all but guaranteed the precise opposite.

There was a click, and then the dildo in Ven's bum began to vibrate.

“Hmm,” Master said. “They all think you should be able to see yourself. I thought that might be the case.”

He removed the blindfold, allowing Ven to see himself in the large mirror which had been set up across the room. His cock was erect and leaking, and he was thrusting his hips a little, unable to hold still because of the vibrator, and the tremors it was transmitting to his cock and nipples. He was panting and covered in sweat. The vibrator was controlled remotely and the intensity changed every so often. He gasped as the vibrations grew harder and faster, and the motion of his hips echoed the teasing. His cock thrust uselessly, needily into the air.

He had been tied kneeling up on the floor at the foot of the bed, ankles tied to the bedposts to prevent him moving away, a spreader bar between his thighs to keep him from closing his legs. He had a large vibrator buried in his arse. Shaped like a cock with a pair of balls, it filled and stretched him uncomfortably. Master had tied a length of slightly coarse hemp rope around his waist, leading the ends down from behind, tight between his buttocks to keep him from being able to expel the vibrator however much he tried, up to the front either side of his cock, over the waist rope and tight around the base of his cock to form an improvised cock ring before finally being tied off with the knot resting against the sensitive skin of his perineum. He had a nipple-clamp on each nipple, linked by a chain that looped under the waist-rope. He was prevented from bending forwards by the collar around his neck, which was linked to the waist rope by a taut cord running down his back. He had a little room to wriggle, but every time he settled down a bit, the vibrator inside him was nudged and he could see now that it had a long rod protruding from between the two strands of rope and resting on the floor, preventing him from sinking down without forcing it as deep as it could go. Not, of course, that he could relax down at all, for his arms were stretched upwards and outwards by the chains fastening him to the bedposts.

“Wanton, quite wanton, you little slut,” his master said, coming around him and reaching down to his nipples. Ven groaned, trying to bend forward as the chain linking the clamps was shortened and the clamps were tightened. The adjustments were only small but they were magnified by the sensitivity of his nipples and his highly aroused state. The cord from his collar to the waist-rope was also shortened, only fractionally but it still had the effect of forcing his chest out and pulling the coarse rope between his buttocks tighter. He groaned at the tormenting sensations, unable to find any relief. His prick strained to find some direct stimulation to be able to come.

“Hmm...” his master said, stepping back to look at the picture he made. “You want to touch yourself, don't you?”

“Y... yes, master,” he said, rolling his hips uselessly to try to get some sensation or touch, something, _anything_ , on his cock, even as the motion added to the teasing of the vibrator in his arse.

There was more fiddling, this time with the collar around his neck. A hand was released from the bedpost and tied to his thigh, and then the same on his other side. He could still not kneel back on his heels – it seemed that his collar had been tied to the bedposts, instead. Not that it mattered, thanks to the rod connected to the vibrator. Anyway, his bum was too painful from the earlier paddling to allow him to kneel back for long even if he could do so.

His fingers strained to reach his cock, but he could only brush his fingertips against it lightly, teasing, tormenting. He could not wrap his hands around it to jerk off, could not do anything other than stroke the quivering erection very lightly with the very tips of his fingers.

“There. I have told you that this prick belongs to me, and I am the one who says when you may come. If you may come at all. You make a lovely picture, you wanton slut,” his master said, moving away and pressing another remote. A large screen beside the mirror came to life, again showing him.

“I have secure webcams set up in this room, all focussing on you,” the master said, and pressed a button. A close-up of Ven's straining prick came up, magnified on the screen and the slave moaned again. “It is an interesting system; I am even able to change which camera angle is broadcast with a single button click. You can see what your viewers can see.”

The master moved back, this time with a gag in his hand, which he showed to the cameras, changing the view to that from a camera that zoomed in on the gag as he spoke. “While there is something to be said for the traditional ball gag, and the ring-gag, I have found these to be the most effective with my pet. They reduce the sounds a slave can make and make them aware that the proper use for their mouth is to have a prick in it. Of course, they cannot always have the real thing, and so the dildo gag is a useful substitute. Naturally, there is likely to be some humiliation involved, on the part of the slave, but that need not concern the master. Some slaves will think that they cannot breathe when wearing one of these, but if sized correctly, the slave can still breathe through the nose. They are also useful for training a slave out of a gag reflex, but the owner must take care while doing so.”

The camera panned back as the master forced the gag into Ven's mouth, fastening it behind his head. “Have fun now,” he said, tweaking each imprisoned nipple before crossing to his chair, which was set up out of the line of view of any of the cameras. “I know I will.”

Achingly hard, aroused like he had never been, forced to watch every futile motion he made, knowing people were paying his master to watch everything as well... Yeah, fun. The video on the large screen (it was a very large screen!) had been maximised, hiding the computer's time display, and while he knew from the rapid pings as new comments were posted that Master had set up a live comment feed, it had naturally been blocked from his view. If viewers suggested further things Master could do to him, he would only know about them when they happened. 

The vibrations in his arse died to a barely-perceptible purr and his head dropped forward as far as the collar allowed. A string of spittle trailed from the corner of his mouth; he couldn't swallow with the gag in. His nipples hurt from the tightness of the clamps on them and the slight roughness of the rope against the sensitive flesh of his prick and crack rubbed and scratched tormentingly. The skin all along his crack was going to be raw if he were left like this for too long. He hung there, panting hard around the gag, a sheen of sweat glistening on his chest. 

The head of his prick was purple and leaking, almost brushing his belly, it was so stiff. The butterfly-light touches which were all he was able to give himself did nothing to relieve his arousal. The vibrator was barely humming at all, and despite the improvised cock-ring formed by the rough rope, the arousal began to slowly fade. Ven had no idea how long it had been since his master had left him; there was no light allowed him apart from that of the room's electric ceiling light and the glow of the spotlights all focussed on him. 

It felt like hours before his prick had softened, flagging to a half-hard state.

Something changed inside and Ven groaned, realising that his master was toying with the remote, changing the vibrator's intensity upwards slowly, so slowly, until it was vibrating at its very hardest, making him jerk in his bonds against its torment. He tried clenching his bum around it to expel it but it was kept inserted as deeply as ever, held there both by its shape and the rope which was rubbing his crack almost raw. Every tiny twitch and motion he made pulled at his clamped nipples and try as he might, he could not sag nor bend to relieve them because of the tightness of the chains from his collar to the bedposts.

He could not help moving his hips, thrusting his prick into thin air. The tiny teasing touches that were all his scrabbling fingers could give were an added torment, and suddenly the view on the large screen switched to focus on his crotch. 

“You can see he is leaking pre-cum,” Master told his invisible audience, speaking in a conversational tone of voice that merely enhanced Ven's humiliation. “The rope as it is tied makes a quite effective cock-ring; it encircles both his cock and his balls, much as his usual harness does, although I have not chosen to separate his balls in the sac as the harness does. The rope has added interest in that it is quite coarse, which will also keep the slave focussed on the sensations granted him. One should always take the texture of something into consideration, and if choosing something rough, ensure that the slave will have time to heal before his next use. There must be a suitable pay-off, and such things cannot always be employed in the same way every time, or the slave will grow to expect it. The element of surprise is vital, for your slave should never be able to predict your wishes and desires when it comes how you wish to use them.”

The vibrations weakened again and Ven sucked in air through his nose, quivering in his arousal. From their weakest, it suddenly seemed as if the motion of the vibrator inside him had the strength of a jack-hammer. There was no pattern that he could discern, no set interval or duration of vibrations of any one strength. The gag couldn't hold his groans, moans and whimpers back. If he were not gagged, he would be pleading for his release.

“It goes without saying that a master should also know a slave's likes and dislikes,” Master continued, panning the camera up to Ven's chest, with the nipple-clamps fastened to his nipples and the decorative chain linking them. . “When a master knows a slaves likes and dislikes, he may choose to use that knowledge to reward or punish, or simply to enhance the times he plays with his slave for his own enjoyment. Of course, what a slave may say with his mouth that he dislikes may not be at all what his body dislikes. My pet's nipples are very sensitive, and they respond well to being teased, and so I like to clamp them. Pet says that he does not like them, but they always make his erections rise quicker and last longer. It is, of course, a balance and you will see that I have not chosen to use the butterfly clamps, for they have the opposite effect to that intended. Whatever type of clamps used, a chain linking them is a useful device, for it enhances the slave's chest, it adds weight to the clamps itself and it may be used to add further weight. I use those with a little hook and keeper. The chain itself has a weight, and the longer the slave wears it, the heavier it feels. Isn't that right, pet?”

Ven nodded, his eyes held fast by the imminent threat of the little decorative thing Master was holding. The camera angle changed, to focus on the heavy little thing in Master's hand.

“These come in all sorts of decorative motifs and all sorts of sizes, and are perfect for adding just a touch more weight to sensitive places.” Master hooked it to the chain under the right nipple, showing how the catch was really very much like that of a brooch, meaning that no amount of movement would dislodge it. Rather than release it gently, he just let it drop. Ven gasped, arching against it for the briefest moment before the pull on his nipples grew too much. 

Master added a second weight, to the clamp on his left nipple to balance the score, also letting it drop into place rather than releasing it gently. “We have here a tiny sculpted penis, and a miniature of Priapus,” he said, allowing the camera to get a good look at them. “Perfect enhancements for any slave and for any occasion.”

The vibrator inside Ven had died away to a gentle purr, just enough that he could not forget its presence. The weights at his nipples swung gently as he shivered with arousal. Master repositioned his arms, chaining his cuffs to the bedposts again, which removed all touch and sensation, however small, from his prick.

“I wonder...” Master said, stepping away for a moment before returning, holding a second vibrator. “How much more can you take?” 

He turned the second vibrator on and held it against Ven's cock. He could not avoid its torment against his prick, would already have spilled if his master hadn't tied his balls off, preventing him, keeping him aroused and aching, needing.

He had no idea how long he hung there, caught in a web of his master's wishes and his own torment, before his master finally bound the second vibrator to his prick and removed the dildo gag from Ven's mouth. A long stream of spittle came with it, and he groaned, trying to get moisture back in his mouth even as Master pulled up his own tunic, unfastened his trousers and pulled Ven, unresisting, to his erect prick.

Even with the movement of his head restricted, Ven took the opportunity of nuzzling it, trailing kisses over it, as he summoned spittle into his mouth by sheer force of will. Sucking a cock with a dry mouth was something he had no wish to do. Not that his master seemed about to allow Ven to have any say in the matter, as he took hold of Ven's hair and shoved his cock into Ven's mouth. If he were given a chance, he could give his master a creditable enough blowjob, but today Master just wanted to fuck his mouth.

He tried to time his breathing so that he could get some air. It would be so much easier if he weren't already so keyed up and breathing hard, on the edge of his own orgasm, which was still denied to him. Master's legs were inside Ven's thighs, the feel of his trousers yet one more teasing thing on over sensitised skin. Finally Master's hips stuttered and he came, pulling out of Ven's mouth as he did so to paint his face with his seed.

“Satisfactory,” Master said, nonchalantly wiping his hand in Ven's hair.

Ven thought for a moment he might be about to replace the gag, and tried to swallow, to get any saliva back in his mouth that he could.

“Master...” he said, the word more of a croak, when it became clear that he was not about to be gagged again. He tried to concentrate despite the pleasurable torment he was in, to phrase his request in a way that was more likely to be granted.

“Might it please Master to... to let me... come, please... Master...”

The hand in his hair changed to more of a petting feeling. “You are a clever boy, aren't you, slave,” Master said indulgently, and bent to release the rope keeping Ven's prick hard and balls pulled down, away from his body. “You may come, slave.”

The order corresponded with the freeing of Ven's balls, and he came, unable to hold back once there was nothing to prevent him. He was left panting, spent, sagging from his bonds as the vibrations in his bum and against his prick died away to nothing.

“Your viewers liked your performance, Pet,” Master said, crossing to the computer to read the comment thread which was being updated alarmingly fast, judging by the continuous soft pings as new comments were posted. “I think I should make you watch it back later, read all the comments. Or do things properly, make it a reaction vid.”

“As... as Master pleases,” Ven replied, wishing Master would let him down, remove the nipple-clamps and the rope, and everything else.

“You look so very pretty fastened there with my come decorating your face,” Master added, turning to look at him. “I think we can enjoy that view a while longer while I take suggestions for what your viewers would like to see another time.”

He came back to Ven, retied the rope around his cock and balls and set the vibrators to their lowest setting, allowing it all to begin again for the entertainment of the anonymous subscribers to his Master's vid channel.


End file.
